


It Started with a Snowball

by ladyroxanne21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9811991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: Harry goes for a walk during Christmas Hols only to find Draco looking as stony as a statue on a bench. It just seemed like the perfect time to launch a snowy missile at him!





	

Harry was walking around the castle not too long before Christmas. It was his so-called Eighth Year (even though he technically hadn't had a Seventh Year), and despite having plenty of loving places he could and would go for the Holiday, he'd stayed behind for...

Well... He'd quite frankly wanted to enjoy the relative quiet of the only real home he'd ever known now that most of the students were gone for the Holiday. The snow was lovely and pristine for the most part, and the weather was unseasonably warm. Not so much that he forego his Gryffindor scarf and warming charms, but enough that he didn't feel like he was going to die of hypothermia.

As he walked along, he noticed that he was coming up on a bench containing one arrogant prat. Malfoy stared stiffly off into the distance. His expression was utterly blank, which made Harry wonder if something was wrong. After all, most people when sitting all alone and unaware that they were being watched tended to show at least _something_ to hint at their feelings.

His heart felt strangely constricted. He knew that it couldn't be pleasant for Malfoy to be back here. Even though there was a concerted effort to promote house unity, Draco Malfoy seemed to be universally shunned by everyone – even his fellow Slytherins, who felt him to be a traitor. The rest of the school was certain that he had merely defected at the last moment in a desperate attempt to keep his arse out of prison.

Only Harry seemed to understand that Draco was just a scared boy doing what he thought he had to in order to survive. And – perhaps ironically – it seemed that only Harry understood what Draco must be feeling, since Harry reckoned he felt fairly similar. A weary survivor's guilt from the war...

Impulsively, Harry scooped up a fistful of snow, and then another, until he had a loosely packed ball the size of a grapefruit. Then – before he could fully think this through – he tossed the snowball at Draco. It hit with a loud puff and a spectacular explosion of powdery snow that covered quite a bit of the meticulous boy's front.

The first expression that crossed Draco's face was surprise, then annoyance. He looked down as resignation settled over his features. Finally, he looked around to find out who had done it. By this time, Harry had a second snowball ready to go, which he launched just as Draco spotted him.

“Pott–!” Draco's exclamation was cut off by a sigh of frustration as the snowball hit him square in the chest, once more exploding like confetti. “Must you ruin a perfectly expensive coat?”

“If your coat can't handle a little snow in the winter, then it isn't worth all the money you spent on it!” Harry called out cheekily.

“Kindly bugger off so that I may be free from your odious presence,” Draco drawled arrogantly.

Harry replied by throwing a third snowball, aiming this one at Draco's perfectly styled hair. How does he do that anyway? Harry couldn't get his hair to stay brushed – much less look good. And yet, Draco's hair looked like he had just been tended to by professionals – despite the wind! Granted, it did blow about gently, but that looked like it was done on purpose with artistic intent. Harry had an insane urge to run his hands through that perfect hair and ruffle it wildly... and then the snowball hit it and made it sparkle and gleam in the sunshine. Harry sucked in a breath as his insane urge changed to gently brushing all the snow out of that hair and simply running his fingers through that silky white –

“ _Potter_...” Draco growled venomously. “Stop acting like an ill-mannered child and bugger off!”

“Or what?” Harry asked with a tone that was just a hair too innocent to be believable. He also bent over to gather up more snow. A second later, he was aiming his biggest snowball yet, this time, at Draco's face.

“Don't,” Draco said in a warning tone, well aware that the snow was aimed at his face.

Harry threw it anyway.

Draco dived out of the way, landing on the soft snow in front of the bench. “That. Is. It!” He ground out as he gathered up a large amount of snow and tried to pack it in a dense ball so that it would hopefully hurt when it connected.

Before his snowball was packed to his liking, Harry tossed another at him. His goal wasn't to hurt Draco, so he didn't spend more than a couple of seconds gathering up the snow and forming a ball before launching it. Draco managed to evade the ball, and then threw the one he'd made. Harry probably could have dodged it, but he let it connect with his shoulder as he bent over and gathered up more snow. It was solid enough that it might leave a bruise, but Harry had felt far worse in his past and so ignored the brief pain.

The two of them lobbed balls of snow at each other for a long time, really getting into it by dodging and weaving and running around to finding hiding spots and more snow. At one point, Draco snuck up on Harry and managed to shove a large and loosely packed snowball down the back of Harry's coat.

“Ah!” Harry yelped in surprise, whirling around to shove the little bit of snow in his hand into Draco's face.

Draco responded by tackling him to the ground. The two of them wrestled, rolling around and around until they were both thoroughly coated in snow. Then Draco gained the upper hand, shoving Harry's face into the ground and sitting on his back.

“HA!” Draco exalted. Harry ceased all struggling because he was amazed to find that the light but solid weight of the boy on his back felt surprisingly good. 

Whether Draco responded to the lack of struggling or whether his simply got distracted, Harry didn't know. What he  _did_ know was that Draco let go of his head but continued to sit on him as the Slytherin threw his own head back and laughed. This was a good laugh. A genuinely amused laugh, with no evil or maliciousness mixed in.

“I!” Draco burst out in between giggles. “I defeated!” More giggles. “The great! Harry Potter!” Slightly harder giggles. “With _snow_!”

Harry chuckled, and used Draco's distraction to roll over and rub more snow in Draco's hair. “There! Now you sparkle like fairy dust!”

This only sobered Draco up a tiny bit. “Are you calling me a fairy, Potter?” He asked with a devilish grin.

“Well I wasn't, but now that I think about it, you're far too pretty to _not_ be,” Harry replied with a shrug and a smirk.

“You think I'm pretty?” Draco asked, his laughter evaporating to leave him with an expression halfway between curiosity and bafflement.

Harry rolled his eyes and gave Draco a look that clearly wondered how stupid he was. “I'm fairly certain that just about everyone who has ever seen you thinks you're pretty. That's not strange. What  _is_ strange is that you're about three or four times prettier with your hair glittering from the snow and sunshine, and your cheeks flushed from the cold and laughing... I don't think I've ever heard you laugh like that before, come to think of it.”

While they were busy trying to murder each other with super soft ammunition, Harry had come to the conclusion that he had picked the fight solely to see Draco feel an emotion.  _Any_ emotion – although he had expected annoyance, frustration, and anger. Therefore, he watched with fascination as Draco studied Harry with confusion and no small amount of suspicion.

“You're having me on somehow,” Draco murmured. “You've got a Weasley around here somewhere just waiting to torment me for getting all covered in snow and looking like a drowned rat. Don't you?”

“Nope, Ron's gone home,” Harry assured him. “And besides, if I had a camera and could take your picture right now, you'd see that no one could possibly make fun of you. It's probably a good thing there aren't any witches around because they'd likely swoon.”

“I can't decide if you're mocking me or just winding me up,” Draco muttered. 

Harry tilted his head to the side in thought. “You know, shockingly, I think I'm trying to flirt. I wouldn't actually know since I've never done it before, and obviously, I'm bad at it.”

“Flirt?” Draco asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, well, you looked so depressed before and I wanted to cheer you up,” Harry informed him with a shrug.

“By throwing a snowball at me?” Draco asked with an incredulous laugh.

“It worked, didn't it?” Harry retorted with an unapologetic grin.

“Yes, I suppose it did,” Draco murmured.

“Then that's all that matters,” Harry stated with a soft smile. “Happy Christmas.”

Just as Harry started to get up, Draco rolled onto Harry, murmured: “Happy Christmas,” and then kissed him. It was a warm and gentle kiss that Harry responded to before he even really thought about it. It just seemed like the thing to do when someone gave you a kiss.

But then he realized that the kiss was slowly lighting a fire in him, so Harry reached up and indulged his previous urge to run his fingers through Draco's hair. Draco moaned softly, a slight shiver suggesting that he liked the somewhat innocent touch.

They did nothing but kiss for at least an hour, but eventually, the cold got to them, despite the sunshine and a some excellent warming charms.

Harry broke free with a smile. “I think I'm hungry enough to go in and warm up and find a bite to eat. Maybe I'll see you here again tomorrow.”

Draco returned the smile. “Maybe you will.”

Harry walked back to the castle with a big smile on his face. He cast a glance back to see Draco staring up at the sky with a smile of his own. So far, the rest of this holiday was shaping up to be pretty good.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a Minnesota girl, so I naturally loathe the snow, lol! Even so, I can admit to having fond memories of snowball fights, building forts, and even jumping off a roof into a large pile of snow, and so - since we're still suffering through winter for at least another month here - I thought I'd give the boys a chance to just play around for once :-)


End file.
